


When Each Breath Counts

by victoriousscarf



Series: Heart Like a Golden String [3]
Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Fili as King Under the Mountain, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:42:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriousscarf/pseuds/victoriousscarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ori’s helmet was lost somewhere out in that field and there was blood on the side of his face but he didn’t care, as any wounds were superficial. </p><p>He felt a scream building up in his chest and cried instead, Dori trying to pat his back with bloody gloves and sooth him with assurances the battle was over and they were alive but Ori was sure he was dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Covered in Blood and With Gaping Holes

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, school has been kicking my butt, I am very sorry it took this long to get this working. I scraped it back to the beginning pages quite a few times as well.

Ori was shaking when Dori caught him and he was sure that Fili is dead.

The prince lay so still, black and red blood matted into his hair and Ori couldn't see his chest rise and fall even as the healers striped his armor away and reveal the gaping wounds left in his chest, and his sides. Ori could see his bones through one of the wounds and was sure he was dead.

Except the healers were clustering around him, and those already dead were laid away, cloaks of their comrades covering them. But Ori didn’t notice that even as Oin strode up, ear trumpet long lost somewhere and eyes grim.

One of the healers saw fit to push Ori and Dori out of the tent where they were working, Dain joining them moments later. Once outside, the sounds and smells hit Ori in the face and he gagged, even as he was sure he was crying and Dori kept holding him around the chest.

The wounded were screaming and moaning and those dwarves that could still stand and had no skill with healing where already gathering the orc and goblin bodies, killing those wounded they could find while searching for their own to take to the healers.

Ori’s helmet was lost somewhere out in that field and there was blood on the side of his face but he didn’t care, as any wounds were superficial.

He felt a scream building up in his chest and cried instead, Dori trying to pat his back with bloody gloves and sooth him with assurances the battle was over and they were alive but Ori was sure he was dead.

Nori appeared them, as if called by his brother’s tears, bits of his hair hacked off and the rest matted down with blood but he tried to hold onto Ori’s back as Dori cradled his face and tried to convince him things would improve from here.

Except nothing they said would calm him down, and though they had been watching their brother the entire quest, they hadn’t been watching where he was watching, or at most thought it was a look of unrequited longing.

“Ori, Ori,” Dori kept saying and he tried to get ahold of himself, to stop the tears but the image of Fili laying there, covered in blood and with gaping holes into him and laying so _still_ felt branded against his eyes.

Hadn’t he been warm and smiling hours ago?

Ori had almost managed to stop the tears when Dwalin strode out of the tent, a new scar already forming on his scalp that cut right through one of his tattoos and his armor and weapons scattered over the battlefield. “Ori,” he said, grabbing the younger by the shoulder, dragging him from between his brothers to force him to meet Dwalin’s eyes. “Lad,” he said, not quite shaking Ori to get his attention and Ori raised his eyes to him. “He’s alive,” Dwalin said and Ori just shook his head.

“Who?” Nori asked behind him and Dwalin ignored the question.

“Lad,” he repeated, having seen the way Fili leaned over Ori’s shoulder to hand him food and the way Ori would trail his pony after Fili on the journey. “He’s _alive_. The healer’s haven’t given up hope yet,” he added, expression shuttering off when he said those words considering who the healers had been unable to save.

“He’s so still,” Ori managed faintly. “He’s so—”

“But he’s alive,” Dwalin assured.

“Is he likely to stay so?” Ori asked and Dwalin paused, looking back at Dori and Nori.

“They hope so,” he settled on and Ori swallowed back whatever scream or tears he wanted to give into. “There’s still hope for him.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Ori nodded and Dwalin turned to enter the smaller tent set up next to the larger one where healers still buzzed around those they could help. “You should rest,” he said over his shoulder and Ori nodded, fingers shaking.

As Dwalin left, Dori slipped up behind his younger brother. “Ori,” he murmured, smoothing a hand over the blood soaked ribbon their mother had braided into Ori’s hair so long ago as Ori sagged against him. “Ori,” he repeated, realizing that he hadn’t been paying enough attention. He wanted to ask why Ori hadn’t told him, and meeting Nori’s eyes they both decided that could wait.

-0-

Dwalin watched the rise and fall of Thorin’s chest and tried not to think about what he was going to do.

“My nephews?” Thorin rasped, bandages covering his head and chest.

“They’re hopeful,” Dwalin replied. “Fili is… they’re hopeful. Kili should make a recovery without complication.”

“Good,” Thorin murmured, fighting to keep his eyes open. “Fili will be king now.”

Dwalin nodded, hoping the other would live long enough for that. “Yes,” he agreed, listening to the breath rattle in Thorin’s chest.

“Have they found our burglar yet?” Thorin asked and Dwalin took a deep breath, ignoring the gashes and wounds still on his shoulders and back.

“We’re looking,” Dwalin murmured and Thorin nodded, reaching out a hand. Dwalin gripped it tightly and they both tried to offer the other a reassuring smile. “We’ll find your burglar for you,” Dwalin promised.

-0-

Ori watched Bilbo emerge from Thorin’s tent and sit down, sobbing as he rocked back and forth. Having been holding vigil over the tent where Fili lay, Ori understood completely. Rising, he moved over next to Bilbo, letting the hobbit curl up behind him and cry, tears running down the tunic Dori had convinced him to change into.

“I’m sorry,” Ori said and it sounded wooden to his own ears. “I’m so sorry.”

-0-

 _Mahal, Mahal_ , Ori kept thinking, _Please let him live_.

Kili woke the next day, bandages over his chest and down his right arm and over both his legs but he woke up, hair matted in his face. He didn’t have a chance to say good bye to Thorin, and Dwalin supported him when he found out. Quickly enough, he demanded to see his brother, hobbling over to Fili’s bed and going so pale Ori was sure he would faint.

But Kili was an heir of Durin’s line, and currently the possible king and he didn’t. His mouth thinned and he swayed but he stayed upright.

Later, he sank down next to Ori, arms wrapped around his knees and trying to finger comb his hair. “I’m sorry,” he said after they sat in silence.

“What could you be sorry for?” Ori asked faintly.

“For not protecting him better,” he said and Ori took a deep breath, resting his forehead against his knees.

“No,” he said, tone firm. “You could have done no better and walked away alive.”

Eyes shadowed, Kili looked over at him. “And if Fili doesn’t live?” he asked softly. “Mightn’t that be better?”

“He’ll live,” Ori said with more conviction than he felt. _Please please Mahal._

They sat together, Kili looking over the field and Ori looking at his knees both praying as best they could. As the shadows started to lengthen, Dain approached, Balin behind him. “Kili,” he greeted and Kili didn’t rise, simply tilting his head back.

“Dain,” he greeted.

Dain started to say something Ori paid no heed to, about their exploits in battle and winning back the mountain and Ori just couldn’t make himself care, staring at his fingers and his boots instead. “But if Fili doesn’t wake up—” Dain said and Ori’s head snapped up. “Then you will have to become the King Under the Mountain,” and Kili looked as sick as Ori suddenly felt. “You have to prepare—”

“No,” Kili said softly, thinking about how pale his brother was, how still, the blood seeped into the bandages holding him together. “No. I will not prepare. My brother is that king, and I will not think upon it until,” he said and had to swallow hard before continuing. “Until he truly lies dead.”

Dain looked like he disapproved of such young notions but the set of Kili’s jaw made him nod it off. “If you wish it,” he said and left Ori and Kili sitting in front of where Fili still lay.

 _Please let him live_.

-0-

They sat together the next day too, Kili carving a length of wood he found, spiraling intricate designs along the top. “He’ll need help walking,” Kili said, having noticed the splints on Fili’s leg. “And it’ll have to be fit for—” he stopped before he could say king, looking to where he knew Thorin’s body lay.

“He will wake up,” Ori assured him again but they went to sleep again that night not knowing. The other dwarves worked around them, clearing out the mountain and rebuilding rooms. Though Bofur threw himself into the work, and Balin worked to make sure everything went as smoothly as it could, no one disturbed Ori and Kili as they stood vigil over the sleeping king.

When Kili went to find food, Dori sat down beside his brother, handing him a bowl of stew. “You should eat,” he said, tone quieter and softer than he usually had when it came to his youngest brother’s health. Shifting his shoulders uncomfortably for a moment, the fact Ori had never told Dori about Fili hanging in the air between them, Ori accepted the bowl, eating through it slowly.

“There’s been much work down on the mountain,” Dori said, trying to sound conversational. “The kitchens have been found, and there’s been work restoring the chambers inside before winter. Once we have sleeping chambers and the kitchen fully running, we can restore the rest of the kingdom. They’ve already cleared out the king’s chambers,” Dori added and Ori hesitated, spoon hovering in the air. “For whoever might occupy them.”

“Brother,” he started and Dori shook his head.

“There’s been rumors going around that Kili might abdicate to Dain,” Dori murmured softly.

“He wouldn’t!” Ori protested, almost over turning his bowl. “Kili would never—besides he—” Swallowing, he shook his head, shifting the bowl around. “He shouldn’t have to.”

Dori hesitated, settling a hand on Ori’ elbow. “He shouldn’t have to,” he agreed and Ori tried to focus on eating again, hand shaking. “Ori,” Dori said after a moment spent in silence. “Ori why did you never tell me?”

Shifting the bowl around, Ori set the spoon back inside it, looking over at his brother sideways, not lifting his head. “I thought you would disapprove. I thought—I don’t know what I thought anymore. I’m sorry.”

Dori’s eyes softened and he shook his head, silver clasps catching the pale sunlight from above. “You were young,” he said. “It must have seemed a grand thing, to love a prince.”

“I didn’t love him because he was a prince,” Ori protested, shaking his head. “It was grand because it was him and he cared for me back.”

Shifting, Dori opened his mouth, closed it again and tried again. “Ori,” he said. “I just worry that maybe he—”

“You’re to say that you’re not sure he truly loves me and if he’s only using me,” Ori said, the words carefully in present tense.

 Sighing, Dori looked over. “Isn’t that something I should worry about?” he said, tone soft and worry in his eyes and Ori curled slightly around the bowl he still held as if that would protect him from what looked like his brother’s pity.

“Perhaps it should be,” he agreed. “But it’s never been like that.”

Dori looked like he wanted to press the issue but he just nodded, deciding that if Fili woke up he’d take care to watch the young dwarf around his brother. “You should finish your soup,” he pressed instead. “Bombur worked hard on it.”

“Thank you,” Ori murmured, as much for bringing him the soup as for not demanding to know more. “I am sorry, I should have told you.”

“It’s fine,” Dori said, not entirely meaning it but refusing to give his brother anything else to fret over.

-0-

The next morning, Ori paused as he saw Kili enter the tent where his brother lay, no one willing to try and move him into the mountain yet. Ori wavered outside, having not slept the night through again, waking with dreams and nightmares of the screams of the battlefield and of Fili’s broken body.

Dwarves only loved once, and he didn’t want to imagine life if Fili never woke up. He was sure Kili didn’t want to either.

He paused, one hand touching the side of the tent flap when he heard Kili cry out. Rushing inside, he froze at the door when Fili’s bleary eyes met his, Kili already bent over his brother, gripping one of his hands.

“Fili,” he managed, and Fili offered first him and then Kili a faint smile, as he tried to focus on them past the pain he awoke to.

“It’s good to see you brother,” Kili said, leaning closer, and Ori had the good sense to move out of the tent enough to call for a healer.

“How long?” Fili rasped, and Kili paused.

“A few days,” he said, tightening his grip on Fili’s hand.

Eyes racking over his brother’s body, making sure he was whole, Fili turned his gaze back to Ori. “Ori—” he said, voice still hoarse from days of unuse and Ori swayed over, dropping to his knees as Kili moved to make room, burying his head in Fili’s stomach.

Letting out a high keening sound of pain, Fili tried to laugh, but that sounded pained to as he buried the fingers of one hand in Ori’s’ hair. “Fili,” he managed, drawing his head back enough to cover Fili’s hand in his hair with one of his.

“It’s alright,” Fili tried to assure. “I’m alright, I’m here.”

Ori managed to pull out a smile, looking over at him. “And you’re here too,” Fili added, eyes still looking distant with pain but his smile was warm. He tilted his head back to Kili again. “Our company?” he asked. “The battle?”

“We won it,” Kili said. “With more help that we could have imagined. Beorn himself came, and tore Bolg apart. Bilbo is here as well,” he added, after a pause. “For the most part we are well.”

Fili cast his eyes around the tent as Oin entered, followed by a younger healer. “And our uncle?” Fili asked and Kili froze.

“He fell,” he said and there was devastation in Fili’s eyes.   


	2. Not Even Kings Could Break that Bond

The healers moved Fili inside the mountain the day after he woke up, the king’s chambers already cleared out. Dori fluttered around the room, clicking his tongue at the tapestries and saying that they would just have to order some more, probably from the Iron Hills until Dale could get back on their feet. When he was done complaining about the walls, he leaned over where Fili had been installed on the stone bed, fussing with the furs until he was satisfied with the way they lay and that the furs would be comfortable enough.

Fili frowned at him from where the furs had been pushed over his chin and standing behind his brother Ori tried to stifle his laughter until Dori left, saying something about seeing about tea.

“I suppose I shouldn’t ask for mead instead,” Fili said, watching him go and pushing the furs down over his chest, the chambers in the mountain warmer than the tent outside had been.

Having been about to give into his laughter once his brother was gone, Ori stilled at the sight of the bandages still covering Fili’s chest, the white standing out against his skin and marking all the places he could have—should have—died.

Fili met his eyes, and gave him a weak grin as if realizing exactly what Ori was thinking. “So, what exactly was your brother doing anyway?” Fili asked, smoothing a hand over the thick furs and looking at the ceiling of the room he’d been put in.

Approaching the side of the bed, Ori slide down to sit beside where Fili lay. “He… I think he’s watching you.”

“Watching me,” Fili repeated and arched a brow. “Why?” Suddenly the other dwarf hesitated. “Did you tell your brothers finally?”

“Dwalin did, technically,” Ori admitted, glancing away. “Or rather, they found out on the battlefield and I don’t think Dori trusts you.”

Fili considered him, stretching one hand out to cover Ori’s. “I can’t imagine why not,” he teased and before Ori could explain he shook his head. “It must look odd to him is all. But for being suspicious, he is fussing quite a bit.”

Ori turned his hand over, fingers tracing along Fili’s palm before he lifted the hand to his mouth, pressing his lips against Fili’s knuckles. Fili’s eyes darkened and Ori drew his mouth back. “He fusses about everyone,” Ori said. “Especially if he knows that I care for you. You’re probably going to have to get used to it, if he does decide to trust you in the long run. Besides,” he added, pitching his voice higher, almost to a sing-song. “If he’s fussing he can watch you more closely.”

Chuckling, Fili stopped when the movement hurt his stomach too much, letting his head fall back against the furs instead in frustration. Ori sucked in a deep breath at that, leaning down to kiss Fili’s hand again.

“I missed you.”

“I didn’t go anywhere,” Fili said, tracking his eyes from the ceiling back to Ori’s face.

“You almost did,” Ori said, mouth moving against the back of Fili’s hand.

“But I—” Fili started and turned his head to see Kili enter the chambers, looking around with interest now that he knew he wouldn’t be occupying these rooms—at least for not a very long time.

Before Ori could jerk himself back, or make room for the other dwarf Kili went around the side of the bed, throwing himself down on Fili’s other side. “Brother,” Fili said, and looked like he wanted to laugh again and was trying not to as Kili borrowed his head in the furs. Shaking his head slightly, Fili ran his hand through Kili’s hair, not drawing back the one Ori still held. “Brother, whatever are you doing?”

“I’d like you to get better faster,” Kili said. “So people would stop trying to ask me what will become of the kingdom.”

Fili’s eyes softened and he shook his head slightly. “You’ll have to learn to cope,” he murmured, not unkindly. Kili had grown up during the journey and there was something new in his eyes since the battle, but he was still young and his dislike of politics and verbal maneuvering ran deep. “But I’ll get better as soon as I may.”

Letting out a long breath, Kili nodded, stretching his spine carefully, his own wounds still healing. “Good,” he said, shifting so his forehead rested against the side of Fili’s stomach, his brother still petting his hair.

-0-

Dori had eyed that tableau when he left the tea for Fili, handing Ori a cup as well and murmuring an apology to Kili for only bringing two cups before retreating again. Kili wrinkled his nose at the tea and Fili eyed it sideways so that Ori ended up drinking both cups happily enough.

By the time Dain entered the room, sword still at his hip though the battle was long over, Ori sat with his back propped against the stone wall, Fili’s arm slung across his leg as Ori read to him, candle light giving the room a warm, dim glow. Kili at least had moved off the bed, fletching arrows for when he was well enough to hunt, odds and ends littering the far end of Fili’s bed.

They all stopped, staring at the elder king of the Iron Hills and Dain looked impassively back at them. “I’ll just—” Ori started to move to leave and Fili’s arm tightened over his legs. Though the other didn’t currently have the strength to hold him down, Ori froze before settling back down.

“I’ll be back with dinner,” Kili said, and did actually make it past Dain and out the door, Dain watching him go with a vague frown, as if realizing how much the young dwarf disliked him.

“Dain,” Fili greeted quietly when the king stepped further into the room. “What can I do for you?”

“I wished to see how you were doing,” Dain answered, looking him over and his mouth thinning at the amount of bandages.

“I’m recovering,” Fili said, carefully trying to gauge the other’s mood.

Dain nodded, glancing at Ori, who shifted back against the headboard. “We were quite concerned for a long while there.”

“Your concern is gratifying,” Fili said quietly, not quite looking at his eyes. “It is good to see that you have survived the battle as well.”

Nodding, Dain braced his hands on his belt, eyes going to Ori again as if still questioning the wisdom of his presence in Fili’s bed. “I will be returning to the Iron Hills after the funeral,” he said. “But I wanted to make sure that you understood if you ever needed aid, to come to me.”

“Thank you,” Fili inclined his head, and after a few more stilted pleasantries, Dain gave Ori one last look before leaving.

When the door closed behind him, Ori clenched his hands into fists. “He—” he started and was too angry to continue for a moment, Fili tilting his head back to look at him. “That—he refused to come to our aid until we’d won the gold back and now he dares—”

“Sh,” Fili said, rubbing his fingers along Ori’s thigh. “He’s right in one thing. That is that I’m very young, and it would be wiser to take advice than blunder.”

Letting go of a breath, Ori looked down, tracing a hand over the golden hair on his leg, unbraided as it had been since the battle. “We should put braids back in your hair,” he murmured and Fili smiled back up at him, pleased. Ori hesitated before continuing. “I wonder if Dain things I would be such a blunder.”

“You?” Fili wrinkled his nose in confused and his hand stilled in realization. “You think he disapproves?”

“He kept looking like he couldn’t figure out what I was thinking to be here,” Ori said, looking toward the wall and tilting his head down, braids swinging over his face.

Fingers stilling, Fili watched him for a long moment. “Ori,” he said, tone soft and when Ori looked back he was struck again with how carefully Fili held himself and the amount of bandages over his skin. “Ori,” Fili repeated. “I told you that you were my one, that I loved you as I believe I shall never love another.”

“Yes,” Ori rasped, flushing under the confession and a smile making the corners of his mouth twitch.

“That’s still entirely true,” Fili said, pushing his head against Ori’s leg, fingers tightening. “But. You cannot worry about every soul who may disapprove. They are likely to be many. I’ll love you through all of them, and please do not let their words make you believe that any less.”

Ori smiled at him, missing the implications of what Fili was actually trying to tell him, shifting around and jostling Fili until he could lay down beside the other and press their mouths together. He hadn’t dared to kiss Fili since a fumbled moment before the battle, their armor clanking against each other. Though he’d touched Fili, petting his head and pressed his forehead against his stomach, he’d not kissed him.

Now Fili granted him a strangled sound, trying to push their mouths closer together and his fingers digging into Ori’s hipbone, other hand tangled in his hair. But they could not press together and Ori carefully kept his hands in Fili’s hair and not anywhere else upon him.

-0-

It took time for Fili to rise out of bed, and he moved with the aid of Kili’s cane, motions slow and filled with pain. Balin came every day with letters and news, and Oin came to track his king’s progress. Kili and Ori almost never left the chambers, keeping Fili focused and happy.

From time to time the others would pass by, Dwalin often reporting with shadows deep behind his eyes and Bofur stopping by with new stories of the clearing and rebuilding of Erebor and a light in his gaze and smile.

Sometimes Bilbo would come, and sit quietly with Fili. “I’m leaving to return home,” he said one day, when Fili was going through some of the practice motions Oin had him doing to rebuild his muscles and help them heal. “After the funeral.”

Fili stilled, looking over, Kili outside the mountain and Ori scrounging up food for the pair of them. “Thorin’s, you mean,” he said quietly and Bilbo nodded. “We’ll be sorry to see you go.”

Bilbo turned his head, watching the hour candle burning down. “I miss my hearth,” he said. “I miss my books, my bed, my garden. The people I would say hello to in the morning.”

“You miss your home,” Fili said and a tremor went through Bilbo’s shoulders.

“Yes.”

“Have you discussed going home with anyone?” Fili asked.

“Gandalf,” Bilbo replied, finally looking back over at him. “I wanted to say—” and stopped when Fili shook his head slightly. “I just wanted to say thank you,” he protested.

“I’ve done little,” Fili said, bitterness seeping into his voice as he never allowed to happen when Ori or Kili were there and Bilbo’s eyes widened slightly. “I should have fallen before Thorin could have had the chance to.”

“So all you may be dead instead of just one?” Bilbo asked in disbelief and arching a brow.

“I should have protected him,” Fili said, fingers twisting in the fur. “He was my king, he was my uncle. I should have,” he stopped, letting out a breath. “At the very least, I should have brought him back to you.”

Bilbo let out a quiet huff before covering one of Fili’s hands with his. “No,” he said, firmly. “Stop that. You would have died alongside him and Kili probably too. And then what, would Dain have been king?”

“Probably,” Fili said, shaking his head, braids falling over his face. “He already thinks me too young and inexperienced. Which is probably true and the world knows it.”

“But you are king,” Bilbo said. “So you simply have to prove to everyone that you belong here.”

“And do you think I do?” Fili asked, arching a brow over at him and Bilbo nodded, the motion firm.

“Frankly,” Bilbo said. “I think you’re more than capable of shocking the entire world with what you do. And I look forward—” he stopped, shaking his head. “To hearing the news of it.”

Fili met his eyes. “You could stay.”

“No, I couldn’t,” Bilbo shook his head. “This isn’t my home, it’s always been yours. Maybe I could have stayed here once, if I had been idealistic enough and hopeful enough, and probably naive enough. But that… that died.” He took a deep breath, gripping Fili’s hand. “I said I would see you have a home again and I have. The price was too high for me to live here though.”

“You did see us have a home,” Fili agreed, turning his hand to hold Bilbo’s. “I would welcome you in my halls if you ever called again.”

Bilbo’s smile was wane but warm. “Then I shall have to travel back this way someday. But for now, I’d like to go home. And sit quietly for a while.”

-0-

Dis arrived with many of those from the Blue Mountains the day before Thorin’s funeral. Gimli ran into his father’s arms, his mother on his heels and Gloin laughed to see them both, holding each with one arm and squashing them to his chest.

Standing braced on the cane, Fili leaned into his mother’s touch, and they bowed their heads together, murmuring quietly to each other, Kili having already greeted her at the gate to the kingdom and now hovering over both their shoulders.

Ori watched them, leaning against the carved stone wall and looking over when Dwalin approached. The taller leaned against the same wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t much look like you want to join them,” Ori remarked.

“Aye,” Dwalin said. “I’d hate to have to tell Dis how her brother fell. She’s lost enough already and I am not looking forward to it.”

Fiddling with the hem of his sweater, Ori nodded. “Do you think more will come?” he asked. “From the Blue Mountains, I mean. Do you think our people will move here?”

Eyes glancing at him sideways, Dwalin nodded. “Aye, they are like to. This company came quickly, for their family. But many remember these halls still, and many more will be drawn by the wealth and the jobs. We shall have a thriving community before long, just wait.”

“It would be nice,” Ori murmured, watching Fili with his mother and brother and feeling something twist in his stomach. Even leaning on the cane, Fili looked regal and kingly, Dis with the same noble bearing. He looked down at his knit sweater and swallowed something back down into his stomach, refusing to dwell on the feeling. Even Kili was looking more princely by the day, and Balin had found both the brothers cornets to wear before Fili’s coronation, that was to take place after the funeral. Bombur and Balin were already going mad with the preparations for the ceremony.

Dwalin turned his head to better look down at Ori. “What’s gotten you quiet?” he asked, dropping the register of his voice to not be heard.

“Nothing,” Ori started and shook his head. “I mean,” he motioned forward to where the three spoke, the others who had arrived streaming past the hall, Gloin leading his family off to the chambers he’d spent the time waiting for them preparing. “Look at them.”

“I’m looking lad,” Dwalin said. “But what do you see that’s got you so fluttered?”

“I’m not fluttered,” Ori protested and shook his head. “They’re a royal family,” he said. “It never really hit me before, back in the Blue Mountains. They look so regal here, like they belong and I can’t imagine it.”

“Imagine it,” Dwalin repeated. “You’re of the same blood, aren’t you? What can’t you imagine?”

“That they shall have a kingdom to rule,” Ori said. “That Fili will be king. Everyone is going to want his time, and his energy and he’ll have to, well, to rule.”

Dwalin shook his head slightly, watching the three of them. “And every lass in the next few days and some lads are going to try and wheedle into his bed.” Dwalin barely managed not to laugh as Ori tensed beside him. “Don’t worry, lad, they won’t get in with you there.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Ori admitted.

“Well, they shall have to aim their sights on Kili instead, poor lad,” Dwalin shook his head. “He won’t rightly know what to do with that attention.”

Ori stifled a laugh, shaking his head. “But you don’t think Fili—?”

“You’re his one, aren’t you?” Dwalin said. “Not even kings could break that bond.”

Reassured, Ori leaned against the wall again, hand still tugging at the bottom of his sweater as Dis tilted her head back as Fili quietly spoke of the preparations for the funeral.

“Lad,” Dwalin said slowly after a quiet lull. “Are you really so shocked by royalty?”

“I always knew Thorin was, and Dis,” Ori murmured, looking down. “But I grew up with Fili, and I’m used to thinking of him as something else. I’m used to the Blue Mountains. We were not much there, rural even, compared to this. We didn’t have much wealth, wars didn’t touch us, and we lived quietly. This,” he looked at the carved stone and lofty halls. “This is so different. I’m still trying to imagine Fili on the throne, ruling with the raven crown.”

“You won’t have to just rely on imagination soon,” Dwalin said.

Ori’s head thudded against the wall. “I suppose not.”

“Ori,” Dwalin said after a moment. “If you’re so surprised to see Fili like this, have you thought about yourself?”

“What about myself?” Ori asked, looking over. “I thought, I might help Balin, or see if I could start a collection of scrolls, maybe write my own. I did not expect to be considered part of whatever world they are in,” Ori said, waving a hand at Fili. “I could not compare to Balin as advisor and they’d have little use for me.”

Dwalin’s expression softened and that terrified Ori more than he would like to admit. “Lad,” Dwalin said. “You’re Fili’s one heart. You’re the consort of Erebor.” 


	3. His as Much as He is Mine

That night, for the first time since entering Erebor Ori wondered if he had his own chamber and where it might actually be. Part of him wanted to retreat, to hide and not think about what Dwalin had said, not think about Fili and Kili standing next to their mother and looking entirely regal against the hewn stone of their kingdom, for all that Fili still stood with a cane.

He just wanted to think, about what everything meant. He wanted to think about what to do and what could happen in the future.

But just when he was about to ask Dori about room arrangements, Fili looked over at him across the dinner chamber and the exhaustion in his eyes was enough.

Except even in Fili’s bed Ori couldn’t sleep, laying on his back and looking at the ceiling. It remained warm under the mountain, especially now that the forges were being rekindled slowly. He counted Fili’s breaths and didn’t think about how close the other came to dying. Or how close he might be to losing him.

 _Consort of Erebor_ , he repeated to him. _Fili, King Under the Mountain. Ori, consort of Erebor._

It just made his head hurt.

Because surely someone would protest, would say that Fili deserved someone else, someone better. Someone who understood politics and how to present themselves at court and didn’t perpetually wonder around with ink stains on their fingers and sleeves and twists of _lavender_ in their hair.

What could he offer to a king?

Banging his head against the pillows Ori tried another tact. Because he still could barely believe Fili would be king. Their king had been Thorin, with his dark eyes and heavy gait and deep voice that rolled through the air. Most days Ori still expected to turn around and there Thorin would stand, long hair probably blowing in some wind and determination in his very bones.

He couldn’t imagine how Fili or Kili were feeling about it.

There had been many days in the past where he’d dreamed about what Fili might look like as king, sketching out a crown on his brow and a court to surround himself with, but Ori hadn’t imagined it would come within a hundred years, or that he would be expected to stand in that court.

For that matter, he was still acclimating to Erebor, Kingdom Under the Mountain. They held the weight of the last great Dwarven kingdom in Middle Earth and Fili would stand at its head. It would not just be dwarves looking to them, but men and elves and possibly even Hobbits if any of them ever cared. Orcs and goblins would know them, and who could only guess who and what else.

“Fili, King Under the Mountain,” he murmured, testing the title out in the darkness of Fili’s chambers. “Fili, King Under the Mountain.” He tried it with different emphasis, and it still felt strange in his mouth and to his ears. He didn’t dare try _Ori, Consort of Erebor_ , out loud.

“Stop it,” Fili rumbled, turned on his side and facing away from Ori who startled enough he sat up, bracing himself with his hands.

“I thought you were asleep,” he managed, looking over at the dim golden strands hanging over Fili’s shoulders.

“Not really,” Fili said, hesitating before turning carefully onto his back and looking up at Ori. “Tonight doesn’t seem to be a night for sleeping.”

Ducking his chin down, Ori couldn’t much disagree. “Thorin’s funeral is tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Fili agreed, voice rough and deep and for a second Ori wondered what it would sound like when Fili did reach Thorin’s age, if it would ever get as deep, if Fili would command the same majesty and deep passion for Erebor and the thought almost took his breath away.

“And a few days after that—” Ori started.

“Don’t,” Fili said, quickly and Ori paused but continued anyway.

“There will be a coronation,” he said and hesitated before reaching a hand out to touch Fili’s brow. “Fili, King Under the Mountain.”

Eyes narrowing, Fili surged suddenly, knocking Ori backward and looming over him. Ori’s hands instantly rose to cover his arms. “Be careful—”

“Stop saying that,” Fili said, not anger but desperation in his voice. “Stop _saying_ that.”

“You’ll hear it from more mouths than mine,” Ori managed. “Fili, you’re still healing, you have to be careful.”

“I never,” Fili started and bit off whatever he was going to say, hanging his head. His golden hair fell into Ori’s face and the smaller raised his hands to cradle Fili’s face.

“Fili, King Under the Mountain,” he whispered. “My King Under the Mountain.”

Eyes widening, Fili’s arms almost gave out when he slammed their mouths together, effectively silencing Ori. Ori’s hands slid back to tangle in Fili’s hair, catching his fingers on the braids and trying not to push his entire body up and into the kiss. It had just been so long.

For even though Fili and he almost constantly touched, Fili resting his head on Ori’s leg or Ori combing fingers through Fili’s hair and braiding it—often to an eyeroll form Kili—they hadn’t dared do more since Fili woke up, injuries enough to have almost killed him stopping anything else. Before that had been the quest, no matter how moments they’d stolen or bartered.

“Fili, King Under the Mountain,” he repeated when Fili drew back.

“Stop,” Fili almost growled. “I—no matter what I may become to other people to you I always want to be…” he paused and Ori almost stopped breathing waiting for his answer. “I want to just be me, be Fili without titles or duties.”

“What if I can’t be your consort?” Ori blurted and Fili’s eyes widened.

“What?”

Blushing, Ori squirmed underneath him and regretted the motion almost as much as he was thankful for the dim light. It meant that it wouldn’t be so obvious when his eyes slid away and refused to meet Fili’s. “I… It’s just…” He stopped speaking, hoping to gather his thoughts up before trying again. “You’ll be king, whether you want it or not. And you should… have someone that can support you.”

“I love you,” Fili said softly. “Do you think me so… swayable that I could chose another to stand by my side? I am a dwarf, hewn from the stone itself and I cannot bend once my heart has been given. Do you think so little of me?”

“N-no,” Ori managed. “No that’s not—but the person who stands by your side needs to know what they’re doing, they need to be able to… to go to court and charm them.”

“You’re charming,” Fili said with a huff of breath but his arms were shaking. Gently, Ori pushed his chest until Fili gave in, rolling onto his back and trying not to wince or groan in the stiffness of his muscles. “You’re kind and warm. What more could I need?”

“Someone who knows what they’re doing,” Ori repeated, hesitating before echoing Fili’s earlier motion and rolling on top of him, carefully keeping most of his weight off Fili’s chest.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Fili pointed out, hands resting on the small of Ori’s back and even clothed Ori could feel their warmth. He shivered, dropping his nose to Fili’s temple.

“Yes, but,” he started and Fili’s hands started tracing tiny circles on his back. “That, Fili, that isn’t fair.”

Fili’s smile was strained as he tilted his head back. “No. What were you saying?”

Eyes fluttering shut, Ori breathed before opening them again. “That you need someone that’s not me to stand by you in front of the whole world because I don’t think I can.”

Letting out a long breath, Fili met his eyes. “No,” he said after a moment and Ori frowned. “I don’t need someone who knows what they’re doing. Balin knows what he’s doing and that’s enough. I’m young, Ori, I’m going to have everyone looking at me and expecting me to be—wild or stupid or anything except a good king.”

“That’s why you—” Ori started and Fili shushed him.

“That is not why I need anyone else,” he said, tone firm. “Because who else could make me smile like you do? Or do any of the things you do. If I’m going to do this—if I am to succeed, I’ll need you. I’ll need you, and Kili, and Balin and Dwalin and everyone else of the company. But I need the one I love above all else in the world.”

“Even if I can do nothing for you?”

Fili’s head fell back against the pillows and he let out a long breath. “Ori,” he said. “Do you not understand exactly what you do?”

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” Ori said finally and Fili let out a half strangled laugh, shaking his head, braids fanned out on the pillow.

“Oh Ori,” he murmured, hands still circling the small of Ori’s back. “I’m the one the entire world is going to be disappointed in. Stand with me and give me the strength.”

Angling his entire body down, Ori kissed him, moving their mouths together carefully. “But the others,” he said faintly when he drew back.

“Which others?” Fili asked.

“Well, Kili knows, and Dwalin seems to know and Balin, and my brothers,” Ori said and almost cringed. “But your mother. I know she likes Dori well enough and that—well, they get along. And I’m of the Line of Durin, I know that but it’s not the same as you or… or Dwalin and—”

“My mother already knows,” Fili replied and Ori almost fell off him in the shock of that statement. “Did you think I could not tell her?” Fili asked and Ori made a strangled sound. “Your brothers found out while I was unconscious. Besides, though I did not tell her until she came today, she certainly suspected more than you seem to give her credit for back in the Blue Mountains.”

“It’s still an unexpected thought,” Ori protested. “I’m worried.”

“For what?” Fili asked, one hand coming forward to tug on Ori’s braid by his ear and Ori swallowed hard.

“Don’t,” he murmured, voice thick and Fili paused, twining the braid around his hand and tugging again.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, voice dropping and Ori wished he could hate when Fili did that instead of feel a shiver go up and down his entire spine.

“I’ve been right here,” he whispered and Fili tilted up to press their mouths together, moving slowly but purposefully and Ori wanted to sink down into the other, barely catching himself from falling entirely.

“But I’ve barely been able to touch you,” Fili said. “I miss the lazy days where I could watch you draw in the morning hours and take you back to bed when I felt like it.”

“We’ll never get lazy mornings back,” Ori felt like he needed to point out.

Sighing, Fili nodded. “Not in the same way we had them then,” he agreed. “And perhaps it’s silly to say I’ve missed you in my bed when here you are, and yet…”

“I know,” Ori said and his face flushed red again. “But you’re healing.”

Something glittered in the back of Fili’s eyes. “And if I declare myself healed enough?”

“Soon,” Ori agreed, hands tightening on the pillow Fili lay on. “But not tonight. You get stronger every day but you… Fili, I remember what your bones look like,” he said, not daring to shift his weight enough to run a hand over the bandages Fili still wore.

Swallowing, Fili nodded. “Come then,” he said, gently pushing until they were both on their sides, Ori tucked against Fili’s chest with his head underneath Fili’s chin and his arms around Fili’s waist. “Will you sleep tonight?”

“This,” Ori started and shifted closer. “With this I might. I’m sorry for waking you.”

Fili huffed out a breath. “I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Tomorrow—” Ori started and Fili shushed him again.

“Is not until tomorrow,” he said. “All other troubles can wait for then, can they not?” Ori nodded, and before he registered it, he drifted off to sleep with the steady beat of Fili’s heart in his ears.

-0-

Fili stood between Dis and Kili on the morrow, Ori standing with his brothers and Bilbo who kept his eyes down, especially when the Arkenstone was placed gently on Thorin’s stone breast. Ori and Nori pressed their shoulders against Dori and no one in the hall dared weep there, many tears having already been shed.

Bilbo left the next morning, Gandalf going with him to make sure he arrived home and did not travel the wilds alone. That made Fili wonder, considering how often Gandalf had abandoned them on the way over but he wished them luck and watched them ride off until he could not see them anymore.

He did not yet dare sit in the throne room, instead finding an out of the way nook to wait. For what, he was still not entirely sure, turning around customs and thoughts in his head for the event still to come, when the raven crown of Erebor was to be given to him. Since he’d awoken, any time he’d been seen by others he wore a circlet that had been riffled out of the treasure by one of the companions to mark his status, but a carved gold band not even an inch thick was an entirely different matter from the heavy dark crown.

Frankly, he could not imagine himself wearing it.

He glanced up in some surprise when a shadow startled him out of his thoughts, finding Bombur holding a plate of food out to him. “Thank you,” he said in surprise. “You did not need to go through the bother—”

“I didn’t,”  Bombur agreed, sitting himself down beside him and Fili hesitated before starting to eat, still not feeling hungry. “But you are to be king soon.”

“I’d still rather people did things for me of their own violation than duty.”

Bombur smiled faintly, adjusting the rope of his beard on his chest, having had to rebraid it carefully since the battle to make it appear as full and healthy as it had been before a chunk of it had been cut off by a goblin sword. “You’re still young,” he said and Fili couldn’t even resent it.

For a while they sat in almost companionable silence as Fili ate and Bombur just seemed to consider the wall across from them. “You will treat Ori well, won’t you?” Bombur finally asked and Fili’s fingers stilled as he looked over in some surprise.

“Yes—what?”

Bombur glanced over at him and Fili shifted his shoulders, continuing to much through the food Bombur had handed him. “I know he has Dori and Nori,” Bombur continued. “But he’s a sweet lad. And I would hate to see him used.”

“Used,” Fili repeated and almost winced when he thought about how he and Ori might look to someone else. Kili had always had complete faith in him, and having watched Ori for most of their lives his brother had been content to accept they loved each other and leave it there.

Suddenly Fili wondered how many of the rest of their companions thought he was simply using Ori because he could. After all, he’d never confessed love in front of anyone else, or indicated what he wanted Ori’s future to be—and considering Ori’s reaction to the idea of consort that seemed the wisest course to continue.

Fili really hoped that Dori at least now believed he had good intentions as he’d stopped glaring when he thought Fili wasn’t looking, and had started fussing even more than he had before. 

“I’m not using him at all,” Fili said finally and Bombur gave him another long look and Fili steadily met his gaze. “I am his as much as he is mine.”

That answer seemed to startle Bombur and he looked disbelieving. “I know you care for Ori,” Fili said, having watched them during the quest, the way Ori would stand by Bombur and they would talk together about plants and whatever else caught their fancy. They seemed comfortable around each other and Fili had watched with jealousy over the quest, wishing he didn’t feel obligated to focus on the quest and not flashes of lavender or the way Ori breathed. “I know most of the companions care for Ori and I do more than any of you.”

“That’s a high claim to be making,” Bombur said, voice heavier than Bofur’s but the accent was the same.

“Yes,” Fili agreed. “But it is true.”

“So would you set him beside you as consort and let the world know what you do?” Bombur asked, clearly expecting the answer to be no. “As you have given no indication of acknowledgement so far.”

“I would,” Fili said. “If he would let me. Thank you, for the food,” he added, rising and handing the plate back to Bombur and wishing he could sweep off instead of hobble off with the use of the cane Kili had carved him.

Bombur watched him leave, shaking his head slightly. He only hoped that what Fili said was true for Ori’s sake. Because Ori deserved for it to be true, Bombur felt. Before, he’d thought Ori’s gazes across the camp had been idealized longing for something he never dared to believe he could have, but not he had to re-evaluate Fili.

Letting out a huff of breath, he pushed himself to his feet and found himself hoping.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is very late, and I am very tired so I apologize for any typos that sneaked through. 
> 
> Also, for how late this chapter is. I honestly get a really wrapped sense of time in grad school where I feel like every month is a year and at the same time I seriously felt like I had just updated this story not long ago. That was a lie. So to celebrate my first evening of not having to do anything tomorrow, a chapter finally appears!
> 
> Thank you all who waited.


	4. Would You Leave

Dis entered Fili’s chamber and paused, watching her sons for a long moment. Kili stood behind his brother, trying to say whatever he could to make Fili smile, the older brother looking like he would like to accommodate his brother but unable to.

When she entered they both stopped, looking over at her and Kili’s fingers still in Fili’s hair, tying his braids for him. For a moment no one could figure out a thing to say and Dis finally mustered a smile for her boys. “It is a monumental day.”

“Yes,” Kili agreed and Fili just looked down again, the line of his mouth thin. Dis could remember when they had been children, and she could even remember what they’d looked like setting off to meet their uncle in the Shire. Now Fili’s face had gotten even thinner and there was a new set to his jaw and his eyes were shadowed. There were scars now, faint line across Kili’s cheek and around his throat if his collar was not high enough and one almost hidden in Fili’s hairline.

“Kili,” she said, and Kili’s head snapped up. “May I have a word with your brother?”

“Certainly,” he said, and did not duck away when she stopped him long enough to smooth down his hair before he got through the door.

For a long moment Fili just considered her before inclining his head. With a faint smile she moved behind him to finish the task Kili had started.

“Any words of advice?” Fili asked as Dis’ hands moved to his hair.

“I don’t know what I could tell you,” she replied, touching the silver clip that Kili had already put in Fili’s hair and gently pulling it off.

“What—” Fili started as she wove it into the back of his hair, up behind his left ear.

“Only princes wear clasps there,” she said. “It’s tradition. And you’re a king today, no longer a prince.”

She tried not to cringe when Fili tensed. “No, I suppose not.” For a moment they were silent as she continued to braid his hair into the elaborate style that would suit a coronation day.

“It’s too bad your beard isn’t longer yet,” she murmured. “Thror used to wear such ornaments in his…”

 Fili ducked his head down, disrupting what Dis was attempting to do with one of his braids. “I didn’t expect this,” Fili said faintly. “Kingship always seemed so distant, a kingdom that I’d never even seen before. I still don’t know what I feel when I look around here. I didn’t even expect to wake up again after the battle.”

According to those that would actually talk to her about the battle, Fili very likely shouldn’t have woken up and she still couldn’t tell if she was thankful to not have to see that, or if she would have rather have been there to hold his hand when he woke.

“I tried to do everything I could to save him,” Fili finished quietly.

With a deep breath, Dis leaned down, kissing the top of one of the silver clasps she’d weaved through Fili’s hair. “I know. But you and your brother are still here, and you’ll be the king now. Thorin—” she started and had to stop to make sure her voice would remain strong enough. “Thorin would have been a good king. You’ll just have to be a better one.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Fili asked, tilting his head back and she smiled.

“Be strong, but don’t hate,” she managed finally, the smile strained. Fili nodded slightly and she finished weaving the braids into his hair in silence, a knot in her throat from missing her brothers.

-0-

Standing still throughout the coronation, wedged between Dori and Nori, Ori felt like he couldn’t catch his breath. He tried to take strength from the stone floor beneath his feet, from the soaring work of the throne room, but that didn’t seem to sooth him.

It felt instead like his heart was in his throat, and he couldn’t figure out why he felt like he was losing something.

The other dwarves standing around him were celebrating and he just felt like more and more of the world was falling away from underneath him.

After the ceremony, a feast was held in the great hall and Ori was shuffled down the table, with the rest of the companions, the others of vague Durin blood that were not directly royal. Looking up at the table where Fili sat crowned with his brother, his mother, and Dain his stomach curled. They were meant to be up there, the center of attention and with all eyes watching them, toasts to the king’s health ringing from the hall, while he sat somewhere else, still honored but only watching.

Finally, he slid away, pausing in front of the door to Fili’s chambers. He’d never actually really gotten chambers of his own but now he hesitated, unsure whether he should really step across the threshold. Would it be different to enter the chambers of a king? Was he allowed to?

He knew that some of the others wondered, that their companions thought maybe Fili thought he had something to gain from using Ori—though Ori couldn’t imagine what—but he knew the way Bofur and Bifur would look at him, at the worry Bombur would say, and the whispered conversations between Oin and Gloin.

But no matter what they said he tried to remember the feel of Fili’s nose pressed against his neck, hidden moments in the hallways in the Blue Mountains, and spilled ink. He knew that Fili loved him, like the sun rose in the sky.

He just no longer knew what he was supposed to be doing.

Turning around, he started to take a step toward Dori’s chambers, stopping when Fili stood in the hallway behind him. The heavy raven crown was still on his head and he stood still, just watching Ori.

“Fili,” Ori started and stopped.

“Would you leave?” Fili asked faintly, not daring to ask Ori to stay, too sure it would be taken as an order and not a request and wishing that nothing had changed between them.

Ori hesitated again and shook his head, offering a faint smile. “No.” Even though he couldn’t quite match the figure in heavy robes and a dark crown to the laughing figure only in leather playing the fiddle.

Still using the cane, Fili shuffled into the room beyond Ori, Ori leaning against his side to help him. “I’m fine,” he protested and Ori shook his head.

“You must be exhausted. Come on now,” Ori said, and when he looked around the chambers they looked different now.

“Things are different,” Fili said by his side and Ori tensed, swallowing hard but before he could say anything, Fili continued. “But it doesn’t change us,” he said, touching the sides of Ori’s face, the cane leaning against the wall. “I still love you. You’re still my one. We’ll figure out everything else.”

“You’re my king now,” Ori said, leaning his forehead against Fili’s, the weight of the crown pressing against his hair.

Fili’s laugh was strained and exhausted. “I hate these clothes,” he murmured into the space between them and Ori’s laugh sounded more like hiccup. “They’re heavy, they’re hard to move in. I miss my coat. I miss wearing my swords everywhere and not having to worry if that makes me look threatening to dignitaries or not.”

“They are rather different,” Ori agreed, running a hand over Fili’s arms, the fabric heavy between them.

“I miss being able to run into the woods, or hide on the side of the mountain.”

“I found you there once,” Ori said faintly, hands coming up to Fili’s cheeks. “With your fiddle. You played me such beautiful songs.”

“I was already so in love with you then,” Fili said and Ori startled.

“Really?” he asked and Fili laughed, the sound low and rough between them, his hands resting on Ori’s hips.

“Why else would I stalk off when you said you thought you found your one?” Fili asked. “I was so jealous and angry that I couldn’t breathe for a moment. I thought for sure it couldn’t be me, and I wanted to complain that as a prince I should get what I wanted but even then I couldn’t be that petty.”

“I was trying to tell you it was you,” Ori protested. “But then you were gone… you were jealous?”

“What did you think I was doing?” Fili huffed out and finally they were shifted enough to kiss, Fili pressing his mouth against the line of Ori’s, hands tightening at his hips.

Shifting up, Ori slid his hands around to the back of Fili’s head, fingers brushing up against the crown and he made a soft sound but didn’t pull back yet. Several heartbeats later he pulled back, fingers coming to touch the front of the crown. “It doesn’t suit you,” he managed, touching the black metal craved like ravens.

Fili’s eyes widened slightly and Ori hurried to continue. “The crown. It doesn’t look like you. It’s too dark and heavy.”

“It’s dwarvish,” Fili pointed out but he looked like he agreed.

“But it’s not you,” Ori said. “You’re not… not lighter like an elf, but you’re not so dark and heavy. You’re the top of the mountain, not just its base.”

Fili blinked at him before smiling. “Only you,” he murmured, kissing Ori’s temple and Ori’s hands hesitated on the crown again.

“Can I?” he started and Fili nodded. Still unsure, Ori wrapped his fingers around the crown, pulling it off Fili’s head, golden strands falling away from the dark and heavy metal. For a moment he just held the crown in front of him, marveling at it and then he raised his eyes to Fili as Fili wrapped his hands around Ori’s, holding the crown with him.

“You’re still my only,” he said and Ori smiled before Fili leaned in to kiss him again, the crown held between them. When Ori shifted, trying to inch closer, Fili drew back and gently tugged the crown out of Ori’s hands, setting it in an alcove by the bed, which looked like it had been build to house such a crown.

Ori pressed back up against him, tilted his head back when he kissed Fili, and threading his fingers through the golden hair, tugging at the braids Dis had put there in the morning but without the obstruction of the crown.

“I miss being able to make love to you,” Fili said and Ori stopped breathing.

“You haven’t been well enough,” was what he managed.

“But I am now,” Fili said softly, leaning closer. “It’s been hard, sharing the same bed for so long.”

Ori blushed, shoulders hunching when Fili kissed his ear. “I could have,” he started and Fili laughed, shaking his head.

“Having you gone probably would have been worse.”

Ori smiled, folding himself down in Fili’s embrace for the first time since he’d stood on a battlefield and screamed at the sky because he _thought he was dead_.

“I still don’t know if I can do this,” he started again and Fili shushed him with a hand against his mouth, leaning to murmur into his ear, that they would figure it out, that Ori was his only one and they would find the answers in time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could not even tell you the number of nights I had this document open, staring at me in accusation, or why every single sentence felt like pulling teeth. (I figure the only place to go from here is up)


	5. If You Would Have Me There

The rebuilding of Erebor slowly ground along, dignitaries from all of Middle Earth trickling in to see those who had ousted a dragon, stopping first to meet Bard as the man who had killed the monster himself before continuing on to marvel at a kingdom rising from its own ashes.

The gold and treasure was still being counted and divided. The original terms of the contract no longer made as much sense when there was suddenly a kingdom to rebuild instead of simple adventurers out for gold. The company happily reinvested the treasure back into Erebor itself, and Thorin’s portion had gone to Fili as King without question.

They were all wealthy enough with what they did get out of the treasure as it was, gold going to Bard and the elves in Mirkwood though it made Fili grit his teeth, Gloin muttering dark things about prisons. But rebuilding a kingdom was still expensive and re-opening the mines became a priority, Bofur happily throwing himself into the task.

While Gloin oversaw the treasury, Ori found himself more and more in the library, picking up ancient scrolls and tomes and carefully cataloging them, putting each hand written document back on shelves that Bifur and Bofur had been slowly helping him make. Some manuscripts were rotted through, or in tatters, or singed and he carefully cut out what fragments could be preserved.

His work with the books distracted him from how distant Fili felt. It wasn’t, it couldn’t be, Fili’s fault himself but every night Ori looked over at him when the King finally reached the dining hall, or sometimes simply their room and Ori missed the sunlight on his hair and the way he would laugh over the bow of his fiddle.

“You should not skip dinner,” he said and Fili looked up from where he was still scribbling treaty terms in bed and Ori remembered when he’d been the one to get ink stains on the sheets, intent on drawing Fili as he slept.  

“I can’t help it,” he admitted when Ori plucked the parchment out of his hands. “There isn’t the time—”

“Do you even have a fiddle?” Ori asked and Fili blinked once, eyes moving to the side. “I mean, have you gotten one since we’ve arrived?”

“There isn’t the time,” Fili said again and Ori turned his chin toward him, Fili’s neck moving easily under his guidance.

He swallowed hard as Fili watched him. “If you don’t make the time, you’re going to start losing other things,” he said. “I know… I know there’s so much to do, that Erebor is so fragile right now but, you can’t lose yourself. Not like…” he started and trailed off, not wanting to say that Fili couldn’t be like Thorin. Thorin, who was so set on his quest and his kingdom that he forget everything else, loosing himself in the end to the dragon sickness for gold.

But Fili already understood his unspoken thought. “You don’t want me to turn into Thorin,” he said and Ori nodded slightly.

“He was a great king,” Ori said. “In some ways. But he lost himself in the end.”

“And almost got us all killed,” Fili whispered and Ori looked down, as he still woke up at night, shaking until he could turn around and wrap an arm around Fili’s waist. He would feel worse about it if he didn’t wake up sometimes to feel Fili pressing his nose against his shoulder blades, hands shaking as he splayed them on Ori’s stomach.

“He would have made a great king, if he’d had the chance,” he said instead. “But you aren’t him. You… just don’t forget to eat at least,” he said, feeling the stupidity of his words, not conveying anything of what he really wanted.

“I’ll eat,” Fili assured, running the tips of his fingers through Ori’s hair. “Alright? I’ll eat. Even if it’s Dori putting the food in front of me.”

Ori snorted, not wanting to laugh but relieved all the same. “Don’t tease. It’s not his fault he can’t cook. He loves food, it’s never made sense to him.”

“I still want to know how you survived all those years,” Fili laughed, but it felt like an echo of what he’d once done.

“By always finding somewhere else for dinner,” Ori replied, leaning against Fili’s side, the warmth seeping through.

-0-

“None of you talk about it,” Gimli said, watching Ori carefully go through another tome, bound in thick brown leather with golden leaf scattered throughout the pages. It was an old history, but in a dialect Ori had trouble reading, and he swore there were elf runes on some of the pages.

“Talk about what?” he asked, not quite looking up.

“The Quest,” Gimli said, leaning his elbows on the oaken table Ori had demanded for the library.

Finally Ori looked up. “Do we not?” he asked, realizing suddenly that no one was.

“Not even father,” Gimli said. “It was a successful quest, why do none of you speak of it? Dwalin has never boasted and he lost the fast friend of his childhood but not even Bofur’s mouth is inclined to go off on the topic. It brought Fili to the throne, should there not be songs of it?”

“There are already songs,” Ori said, remembering the well meaning singer who had preformed for them, the Company looking ashen faced as they listened to the inventions the other was spinning of what for them had been reality.

“But not by you,” Gimli said. “If I ever went on a quest, I would not be shamed to speak of it.”

Glancing up, Ori smiled. Sometimes he remembered that Gimli was not so much younger than he or Fili, but now he felt far away in age. “And I do hope that for you, that is true,” he said. Someday he felt that he would write out the words of the quest, and someday they might be able to raise a glass for having retaken the kingdom. But his memories were of them tripping from one situation to another, barely scrapping by, always acted on by outside forces. It felt most days like Thorin was the only thing holding them together, that and Bilbo’s cunning. But in the end they had all believed to some extent or other in Thorin’s vision, and in their family that was journeying with them.

But then their shining king, the leader they were all willing to follow had all but led them to death except for luck and an army of orcs streaming out from the mountains.

Gimli huffed again, jerking him out of his thoughts. “The tales of Erebor should be told,” he said and Ori thought about Fili tumbling out of barrel soaking wet, and the feasts of Laketown, seeing the treasure for the first time and the torches glinting off Fili’s hair, but also the way Thorin had stood, chin back and visions dancing in his eyes, slowly sinking in to dragon sickness and gold lust that over rode everything.

“Someday,” he agreed. “Perhaps.”

Still not looking impressed, Gimli spent the next several hours helping him sort through scrolls, ink stains almost all the way up to his elbows and Ori teased him about his penmanship.

-0-

Glancing over at Kili, Fili considered for a moment. “How do you feel about going hunting today?” he asked and Kili glanced over with a quirked brow.

“Hunting,” he repeated, adjusting the braids that were now in his hair. As more people living in the mountain had learned to recognize them, Kili had dropped the cornet except on rare state occasions, but Balin and Dis had pinned him down, explaining to him the meaning behind a prince’s braids and how important it was to remember to present the right image. Since then he’d forced himself to sit still long enough to braid his hair, though they still fell out of his hair faster than any braids had a right too, and he still looked perpetually a bit windswept.

“If you could,” Fili said, offering him a smile and Kili just shook his head slightly.

“If you’re going to try anything with Ori, all I can say is good luck. He’s been quite adamant about staying in the library.”

“Which is what I wish to change,” Fili replied, shaking his head slightly. “Besides, I thought you might like to avoid the court for a day.”

“Would I ever,” Kili agreed with a laugh. “It is a wonderful court, for being yours, brother, but I would not mind a day away from it. I have wished to go hunting now for a while.”

“Perhaps someday I’ll be able to make the time to join you,” Fili said, corners of his mouth twisting at the thought that he still could not have gone hunting if he wished. Though he rarely required the cane Kili had carved anymore, his walk remained slow and his leg hurt.

Clasping his brother’s shoulder, Kili offered him a smile. “You will,” he said. “Soon. I remember sometimes Thorin would talk about it, some days.”

“That’s for he was always out hunting when he should not have been,” Fili said with a tiny smile. “At least according to our mother. He would have protested it.”

Fili took the sound of his brother’s laughter with him when he went to seek out Ori before his lover could make it to the library. “Ori!” he called, catching him as he was about to leave the kitchen.

Turning, Ori offered him a tiny smile, adjusting the hem of his tunic. “Have you eaten?” he asked and anyone else might have missed the flash in his eyes, almost making the question a demand that the answer be yes.

“I was about to,” Fili said, catching Ori’s elbow and pulling him back into the kitchens. “I would make a request of you today.”

“What?” Ori asked, eyes widening. “Anything you need.”

“I would like you to sit with me in court today,” Fili said and barely suppressed his sigh when he watched Ori’s shoulders hunch up, eyes closing down in worry. “Please,” he added, resting a hand on Ori’s shoulder. “Kili is going hunting this morning and I would appreciate to have another there.”

“The lady Dis?” Ori asked.

“She is visiting Dale to discuss the coming winter with Bard,” Fili said, offering Ori what he hoped was a soothing smile in the face of his panic. “Please, Ori, I would have you there.” He didn’t add that Ori should have been there from the beginning, by his side from the beginning.

Finally Ori’s shoulders slumped. “If you would have me there,” he said and Fili grinned.

“I would,” he assured, brushing his fingers up over Ori’s cheekbones.

“Then, then I shall come,” Ori managed and Bombur looked over from where he was bringing Fili something to eat, as the king had been becoming too skinny to Bombur’s own mind. The stress of healing and then running a kingdom had apparently been too much and he hated to see it.

Seeing the way Ori was refusing to meet Fili’s eyes, he suddenly wondered if this was what Fili had meant, that he would make Ori his consort if allowed. He’d been mulling over the statement for weeks, even asking Bofur what it could have meant. Bofur had wrinkled his nose and considered it, but neither of them had really settled on an acceptable answer.

“You will be thrilled by the court,” Bombur said. “I am sure you’ll quite enjoy it,” and he paused when Ori started to look a shade queasy and Fili shot him a look like he would appreciate it if Bombur did not try to be encouraging. Bombur handed Fili his plate, offered them both a smile and retreated with the knowledge given to him by the conversation he had overheard.

-0-

While the walkways leading to the throne were being repaired from where Smaug had smashed through them, Fili had relocated the throne room to a nearby chamber that was not quite so imposing. While he understood the sweeping structures of the original throne room, he felt certain it was not supposed to make its own king feel insignificant.

He would never be a king like Thror had been.

But considering the dragon sickness, the gold lust that had brought Smaug, perhaps that would be for the best. He carefully let the gold go with Bilbo, carefully making sure he was willing to share with Bard and the town of Dale, constantly watching his back for signs of becoming too attached, of giving into the same sickness that claimed Thorin in the end.

He did not want to lose himself to gold.

There was a large part of him that hoped the main throne room would never be complete, so that he would never have to sit in the echoing hallways, the only approached entrance a long stretch in front of him. Though, perhaps if he could convince Ori to stand there with him, it would not be so bad to feel the weight of the Raven crown or the pride of his ancestors glaring down at him in stone.

-0-

“Do you want me to go hunting again?” Kili asked the next morning, already slinging the bow over his shoulder and Fili grinned at him, his steps lighter for having Ori next to him all day. He did not hang over Fili’s shoulder like Kili occasionally did when he had a point to make, but occasionally Ori would brush a hand over Fili’s, or offer a comment pointing in the right direction.

After a while Ori would even join him when Kili was there, Kili on his right and sprawling into the king’s throne, and Ori quietly on his left, hands folded on his lap and with a steadying presence and Fili finally started to believe he could rule the kingdom of Erebor.

-0-

Walking down the hallways, several scrolls in his arms, Ori paused when he heard what he thought sounded like his name. A small cluster of courtiers who had arrived from the Iron Hills stood talking a little further up and he took another step, intending to pass them.

“I just do not comprehend what the king is thinking,” one of them said, stroking her beard and not facing where Ori stood. “It is so obvious what is going on.”

“It must be quite a boon,” the dwarf beside her added. “To be from the wrong side of the family and now with the ear to the king.”

“He is not even that attractive,” a third huffed, wearing green and gold.

The middle dwarf shook his head slightly. “I’m not sure that matters, all their beards are a bit lacking. But they are the most powerful in these lands now. They won a kingdom back from a dragon and now rule what was the last great kingdom. The Iron Hills cannot compare, that’s why we’re here.”

“Yet to have that power in the hands of a power hungry dwarfling,” the third said, shaking her head again. “He is using the king who only seems besotted with that bastard trying to appear legitimate.”

Ori had no idea if they realized he was standing behind them or not, or which option would be better.

“But that line of the family are not truly bastards, are they?” the first asked. “They are at least of the line of Durin.”

“Only barely,” the male said, shaking his head slightly. “They are the children of bastards in the very least. The brother has never been entirely respectable anyway. Did you not hear that he was in prison or close to it when this quest started? Rumors were that he went only to escape.”

Desperately Ori wished he could disbelieve such a rumor expect that explained everything about why Nori went on a quest he acted like he did not believe in, convincing Ori to come and Dori trailing behind them to better protect them. Surely that wasn’t truly it though.

“I’m just surprised the king seems so taken in,” the dwarf in green and gold said, shaking her head. “With someone like that, someone who clearly just wants a chance at power. Hopefully the king will learn better in time, at the very least before officially declaring him a consort. A bastard on that throne would be too much for such a fragile kingdom.”

Dropping the scrolls with a clatter, the two dwarves closest to Ori turned around in shock, the third not looking nearly as surprised as their wide eyes implied.

“Oh,” the first said as Ori swooped down, gathering the scrolls in his arms as quickly as he could manage before continuing down the hall, carefully not running from them. Once he was around the corner, he changed directions, heading for the library instead of the room where Fili held court. Under the scrolls, his hands were shaking and he could not catch a breath.

If there had ever been a moment where he was not frightened to be seen as Fili’s side, helping to dictate the rule of the kingdom, it had fallen to shards at his feet.

 _Ori, consort of Erebor_ has always had a ridiculous ring to it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kili is the best brother. 
> 
> Free from school for the summer and working forty hour work weeks. Once I adjust to this schedule, my inspiration is back in spades after being gone for several long months.


	6. When Each Breath Counts I Cannot Lose You

“You do realize Ori has not been seen outside the library for three days now?” Kili asked, leaning against Fili’s throne once everyone else had left for the day.

With a sigh, Fili nodded. “Yes, I’m aware.”

“What are your intentions about it?” he asked, pulling one of his unraveling braids in front of his eyes and sighing. He had tried extra hard that morning to tame his hair and was about ready to call it a lost cause forever.

Sighing again, Fili leaned against the throne, feeling a dull throb behind his temples. “I do not know,” he said as Kili waited in silence for his answer.

Kili looked down at him, looking close to annoyed. “You know the rumors, I presume?” he said.

“That he is only in my bed as a power play?” Fili asked and Kili nodded. “That I am blind to how much he’s only doing it for status? Did you know most of the company believed the opposite, that I was using him to satisfy myself without any emotional attachment or interest in making him more than a bed warmer?”

“What?” Kili looked at him in alarm. “How could they think that of you—?”

“They were more interested in protecting Ori than having faith in me,” Fili said. “It was not such an odd thing to believe.”

Scratching the side of his neck, Kili watched him. “Perhaps if they were not paying attention,” he said and shrugged. “Alright, so both of you have been scrutinized and found wanting. But what does that really matter when it comes to you?” he asked. “You love each other. I may be younger, I may not really know, but who would argue with that if they paid you attention?”

“That does not matter if Ori does not believe it,” Fili said, finally pushing himself to his feet and Kili’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“If you believe so,” he said finally. “You should find Bombur though, and see if you cannot take Ori his dinner.”

“In the library?” Fili said, looking over at his brother who simply grinned and nodded, giving him a small shove.

“Go on then, brother.”

-0-

Ori shifted through the papers in front of him and realized that he had already gone through this stack the day before. With a sigh, he carefully set them down and rubbed his temples. His eyes hurt from how much he’d been staring at small print over the last several days. But whenever he stopped, he could hear those words over and over. Once he started listening, it felt like those same rumors and comments were all over the court, constantly questioning him.

Nori had gotten into a fist fight with one of the courtiers from Dain’s kingdom, and both had been hauled by Dwalin to cool their heels in a prison cell for a day. Dori was being devastatingly courteous to people and had sent more than his fair share running away.

But all Ori could do was hide in the library, reading print that made his head hurt, and wonder if Fili had listened to the same rumors yet or if he cared.

He’d been waiting for Fili to sleep before sliding inside their room, rolling onto his side when he heard Fili shift and ignoring his quiet questions.

“You don’t look good,” Fili’s warm voice said from behind him and he jumped, looking over his shoulder.

“I—I am fine,” he managed and frowned when Fili set the plates he was carrying down, moving his carefully sorted papers to one side and replacing them with one of the plates. Ori made a quiet, high pitched sound at the removal of his papers but Fili just stared at him and he hunched his shoulders. “This isn’t a terribly subtle hint,” he protested weakly.

“It would not be if I was protesting your lack of eating,” Fili agreed. “But I talked with Bombur and he says that as far as he knows from the empty plates he receives back from you, at the least you have been eating.”

“Then what do you want?” Ori asked and ducked his head when Fili looked hurt by the question.

“To talk,” he said, moving the food around his plate and neither of them ate for a moment. “The delegation from Mirkwood left again today. They always seem to cause a fuss, one way or another.”

“But Thranduil himself did not come this time,” Ori said, remembering hearing that from Gimli who didn’t quite understand on the same visceral level as the others why they got surly when the elf king was mentioned. 

Fili nodded. “Thankfully.”

They sat in silence another moment. “You should not listen to them,” Fili said and Ori’s eyes snapped up.

“I can’t help it,” he said, looking down again and folding his hands on the table in front of him and wishing he could run away all the way to the Blue Mountains and take Fili with him, so they could sit under the stars and he could listen to Fili play the fiddle, and they could sneak kisses in the hallways. There was something about the weight of Erebor above them that made the idea of catching kisses in the spare moments in the hallways seem immoral.

“Do you think I see you that way?” Fili asked and Ori’s eyes widened in surprise.

“No! Of, of course I don’t,” he said, looking at Fili who was watching him impassively. “I would never think that you… No.”

“Then why does it matter?” Fili asked, leaning forward and Ori almost leaned back but this was Fili and he trusted him still.

“Because of the way they look at me,” he whispered and Fili looked for a moment like he was about to ask if it would help if he killed them but he shook his head slightly, dislodging that thought. “Because of what they say to my brothers.”

Fili reached his hands over the table and Ori took them quickly, making something tight in Fili’s chest ease for the first time in several days. “I cannot say that they will not stare at you,” he said. “And I cannot even ask you to come out of this library if this is what you would rather.”

“Then what would you ask of me?” Ori asked and Fili’s face crumpled at the fact it was obvious he would have to ask anything.

For a moment he just stared at their hands, twining his fingers with Ori’s. “A compromise,” he said finally.

Ori nodded. “Alright,” he said. “What would you propose?”

“Take two titles,” Fili said and Ori looked at him in surprise. “Become my consort but also the librarian here. The Royal librarian, if you would like.”

Eyes looking almost panicked, Ori took a breath. “Why those two?” he asked.

“Because if you were officially mine,” Fili said, watching Ori closely. “No one could question either of us anymore. They couldn’t say I was turning your head with empty promises and they couldn’t say you were just turning mine to get power without fundamentally questioning my own judgment.”

“Who would question you turning my head?” Ori protested, offended on Fili’s behalf.

“That is unimportant right now,” Fili said and pressed on. “You would be mine, put on that throne by my own hand. But if you had another position, you could spend most of your time here, rather than at the court and still show them that you are wonderful and brilliant and useful. I do not need the reassurance,” he added, but was sure that Ori did.

“I never wanted to be consort of Erebor,” Ori said and Fili nodded, well aware that he had never wanted such a role.

“But I love you,” he said. “And want none other. I could have none other. I need you still. When each breath counts I cannot lose you.”

“Do you really think it would help?” Ori asked, not looking back at him. “Those titles?”

Fili’s eyes moved around the library, where candles burned and nodded. “I hope it will,” he said. “Please don’t leave me, Ori. I chose you and never another.”

“You make it sound like love will be enough,” Ori said.

“I am going to try to make sure that it is,” Fili said. “We have fought harder battles than this, after all.”

“But those battles last for hours, days,” Ori said. “This is a siege that could last months. It could last years, with the court and world judging your conduct, and mine. You are such a young king, Fili. You cannot afford mistakes.”

“You are not a mistake,” Fili said, conviction deep in his voice and Ori believed him. “And then we shall simply prepare ourselves for such a siege.”

He stood, holding his hands out and Ori twined them together, standing with him. “But you promise that I may retreat here?” he asked and Fili laughed, the sound low and warm between them and it made Ori shiver.

“Yes,” he assured against Ori’s temple, pulling him into an embrace. “We will try to keep the path here clear.”

“You think I could do it then?” Ori asked. “Be the consort of Erebor?”

“I am the king of Erebor,” Fili said and Ori blushed to remember the night he had stayed up repeating the phrase over and over. “You’ll just have to keep saying it until it sticks. Ori, Consort of Erebor,” he offered. “You can try it.”

Ori shook his head. “Later,” he said. “Maybe if you say it enough I’ll start to believe.” He leaned back slightly, squaring his shoulder. “I suppose they are not so scary as Smaug.”

“They breathe less fire,” Fili agreed. “Besides, if some of them keep going, Dwalin will be the one punching them and Nori will have to lock him up. We’re not alone in this.”

“Are you certain about this?” Ori asked again instead and Fili nodded.

“Ori, Consort of Erebor,” he reminded him and finally a smile curled the side of Ori’s mouth.

“It won’t be easy,” he said and Fili stepped back, holding his hand out. Looking at it for a long moment, Ori accepted it. “Alright,” he said and Fili smiled at him. “But we’ll announce both at the same time?”  
  
“Consort and Librarian?” Fili asked with a smile and nodded. “Of course.”

“Then, Fili, King Under the Mountain,” Ori said and the title still got a flicker of pain out of Fili. “We should retire.”

“And you won’t pretend not to hear me?” Fili asked and Ori let out a breath, nodding. “Then we should,” he agreed, and helped Ori blow out the candles before leading him out.

-0-

In the early morning light, Ori traced the scars on Fili’s skin, the large ones across his chest that might have killed him, and smaller ones spiraling out from that, some older and many newer. Stretching, Fili rolled over to face him. “Do they still bother you?” he asked, placing his hand over Ori’s.

“That was never really it,” Ori protested. “They scared me, and kept making me think how close I came…”

Fili shifted his hold on Ori’s hand, drawing him in closer. “We’re both still here.”

Instead of answering, Ori leaned down, dragging their mouths together, his free hand twisting in Fili’s moustaches. Making a deep rumbling sound at that, Fili pressed up, dragging his hands along Ori’s shoulder blades. “Of course, I could prove that to you again,” Fili mused, dumping Ori off him and rolling over him, arms braced on either side of his head.

“Yes please,” Ori said and titled his head back as Fili covered his mouth again.

-0-

When they emerged a while later, Kili met them in the hallway and just grinned. When they reached the court, several of the dwarves seemed surprised to see Ori there, and their surprise only increased when Fili made Ori the first business of the court that day.

There was stunned silence before in the back of the room, Bofur started to clap slowly, Dwalin adding his approval and no one dared say anything with Dwalin and Nori both glaring at them. Smiling to himself as this was exactly what he had expected for months, Balin offered to draw up any of the paperwork that would be needed for either role and Ori almost flushed to think of Balin’s office so long ago.

That night there was the feast that must be held for all such occasions, but it ended with a smaller one, the former companions crowded into a smaller room, Bofur and Nori competing with how many toasts they could make with the mead, Bifur drumming on the table to each of them.

Gimli had snuck in, sitting by Kili and they both looked all together too smug for having known before anyone else.

“I think your older brother is starting to get a bit misty eyed,” Fili said, leaning over as the instruments came out, Nori and Dwalin clearly competing.

Ori chuckled, shaking his head. “Just be glad he took a shine to you.”

“Infinitely,” Fili nodded, well aware of how dangerous Dori was with his poisons and ranged weapons. Watching the companions around the room, for a moment Fili thought it looked like the controlled chaos of Bag End so many months ago and he let out a careful breath, missing his uncle like a hole in his chest.

But then he looked over at where Ori was laughing and cheering and he smiled to see it, touching Ori’s hand under the table. Returning the smile, Ori brought their entwined hands on the table and left them there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the longest fanfiction I've written in the last three years comes to a conclusion. 
> 
> Thank you everyone who's read this! It's meant a lot to me.


End file.
